Memories
by kmc995
Summary: A series of one-shots about Sam and Beck's relationship, bringing to life memories Sam has with his foster father.
1. Dream Catcher

So, this is a little short based on The Shiver Trilogy by Maggie Stiefvater. I might do a few more of these, not sure though. I'm home sick and just decided to write about this series, seeing as I just finished it over the weekend. It was stuck in my head, the relationship between Sam and Beck - I just think their father-son-ness is just so adorable! Especially that little moment in Forever (which I will not say just in case anyone hasn't read the books yet).

This probably took me about 20 minutes - and it's not my best work. Honestly, I didn't really try on this at all. I just needed to write _something_.

Thanks for reading

**Disclaimer:** I DO NOT own Sam or Beck or Ulrik or Paul.

**Sam and Beck: Memories**

"Sam."

I was slowly becoming conscious. Still on the edge of sleep, however, I clenched my eyes tight against the light trying to penetrate my eyelids and turned my head to the side. Not that it did much good.

"Sammy, wake up." A warm hand tapped my shoulder, gently rocking me back and forth.

I sighed. "What do you want, Beck." Opening my eyes into slits, I saw that Beck was sitting on the side of my bed. He was wearing the orange t-shirt that he usually goes to bed in and he smelled like toothpaste.

"C'mon, get up. I want you to see something." His voice was too loud for – what? I looked at my alarm clock on the side table - 6:32AM.

"Why," I whined, already closing my eyes again and pulling the covers back up from where they had slid during the night. Just as I was about to curl up, Beck pulled the blanket away.

"You can sleep later," he said, grabbing my arm and yanking me into a sitting position. Dizziness swam across my vision and I groaned as the lightheadedness made me grab my head.

"Sorry," Beck said, apologizing for sitting me up too fast.

"Okay, I'm up," I grumbled. I got to my feet and stretched, my arms reaching as far out as they could.

We walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. Ulrik and Paul were there also, already sitting at the table. Considering that it was before noon, something must be going on. Paul looked dead, sipping his coffee, while Ulrik looked jittery.

"Okay…" I stood there for a moment, then looked at Beck questioningly. "Why am I up so early?" Usually I slept in 'til 8:30-9:00, which is still early according to most people (in this house at least).

"Asking myself the same question," Paul mumbled into his mug.

"Well," Beck started, "I thought you would enjoy waking up early so we could celebrate your 16th birthday."

"But my birthday isn't 'til tomorrow."

"Exactly." Beck crossed his arms and smiled.

"Um…" It was too early to really think straight.

"Beck, for god knows _what_ reason, thought it would be more of a surprise to celebrate today." Ulrik growled, feigning anger. Or maybe he was just grumpy like Paul.

"Oh." I smiled slightly to Beck and he grasped my shoulder. "But why did we have to get up now?"

"Because it gives you time to figure out what you want to do all day. We can go anywhere, do anything. It's up to you."

Paul scratched at his cheek, probably feeling the stubble that was clearly there. "Sam, I swear, if you say anything along the lines of museum, I will hurt you."

The last time Beck and I dragged him and Ulrik to a museum, it was filled with nothing but screaming second graders touching things they shouldn't.

"Nah…how about we just…I dunno. See a movie or something?" There really wasn't much stuff to do in a place like Mercy Falls, which was basically in the middle of nowhere.

"Oh, c'mon now Sam. You can think of something better than _that_," Beck said, backed by the incredulous "you-gotta-be-kidding-me-this-is-why-I'm-up-right-now?" stare of Paul.

I thought for a moment, the heat of Beck's hand still on my bare shoulder. Then it dawned on me. "Can we go to Duluth?" I asked. Beck's hand tensed.

They all looked at me, uncertain. I knew why, though. But that's not the reason I want to go.

"There's this candy store there that I'm sure you guys will love."

Beck's hand relaxed. "If that's where you want to go." He smiled, relieved that I didn't ask to go see my parents. Subconsciously, I started rubbing my scars with my left hand.

"It is," I stated, genuinely excited.

"Alright then – go put on a shirt, and we'll go when you're ready."

~oooooooooo~

It was almost 5 when we got back to the house. Each of us had a bag full of chocolate and candy and, you could say, on a sugar high.

I went upstairs, set my bag on a chair, and plopped onto my bed. Sugar highs apparently didn't last long. I was exhausted, despite it only being a few hours past noon. It was probably the drive.

I couldn't remember a time when we had all gone out and did something fun. Chinese Day didn't count because Beck was never there. This was definitely going to be one of my good, paper crane-worthy memories.

"Hey Sam?" Beck called softly into my room.

I sat up and he took that as an okay to come in. "Hey."

"I got you something," he held out a hand closed around the wax handles of a plum purple 99₡ gift bag, probably from the gas station. "It's not candy, don't worry."

I couldn't help but smile as I stood up. "I thought today was my present?"

"It was, but so is this," he said, almost seeming amused by my question. I held out my hand and he passed me the bag. Without delay, I peeked inside and took out its contents. It was a dream catcher, with an intricately woven web laced with feathers and beads. It reminded me of the Native Americans in the history book Beck made me read out of. It was beautiful.

"Did you make this?" I asked, fingering the wooden frame and looking closely at the 'GB' carved in tiny letters. 'Geoffrey Beck.'

"Yes."

"Wow," I breathed, "this is amazing." I took my eyes away from the catcher and met eyes with Beck. "How long did this take you?"

He snorted and rolled his eyes good-heartedly. "That doesn't matter. What does matter is this trinket is supposedly supposed to catch all of your bad dreams and leave nothing but good ones."

I smiled even wider. Ever since the day my parents had tried to kill me, dreams weren't always my friend. Even though I know it was just superstition, I was touched by the gift, especially knowing he made it himself. I never took Beck to be into the whole arts and crafts deal.

"Thanks, Beck." I stepped forward and hugged him. I felt like a little child again, hugging my father. It felt nice. He hugged me back and we stayed like that for a few moments. When we broke apart and Beck left the room, I picked up the dream catcher from where I had placed it on my bed and looked for a place to put it. I ended up hanging it on the right post of my headboard; the perfect place to catch dreams.

It's weird. Now that I have it up, my room never seemed complete without it.


	2. Nightmares

Okay, this is another short for The Shiver Trilogy by Maggie Stiefvater. I'm so tired right now, I'm not even sure if this came out anything like I wanted. I feel like the emotion was either too much or too random and intense for such a short scene. I do not feel like I captured Sam and Beck in this properly at all. But - ehhhhh. What's a girl for trying?

Enjoy :) Opinions are welcome; ideas for another Memories one shot imore/i than welcome.

**Disclaimer: **I DO NOT own these characters. Maggie Stiefvater, the author of this Trilogy from which Sam and Beck come from, owns these characters.

**Sam and Beck: Memories**

_The room clouded thick with a suffocating mist._

_Windows and mirrors and rose patterned tiles fogged._

_ Mommy's hand holding my wrist, a little too tight._

_ The tub was filled almost to the brim with water. _

_ There were no toys in it like there usually was._

_ The steam was pouring off the surface, hissing as the cooler air licked the top._

_ The heat was so thick._

_ "Mommy?" I said, "is it bath time?"_

_ No response._

_ Daddy came in. He was holding something behind his back. _

_ Maybe it was my rubber froggy._

_ They told me to get in the tub. _

_ No need to undress._

_ A game?_

_ I don't think I want to play._

_ Picked up, placed in the tub._

_ Too hot. Burning hot._

_ Clothes soaked._

_ So heavy._

_ Mommy and Daddy share a look._

_ I was scared. I don't like this game._

_Struggle._

_They pinned me down._

_It wasn't my toy frog._

_Sharp._

_Sharp pain._

_Sharp cries._

_Sharp knife._

_Blood._

_Stop! _Please! _Stop!_

_He won't die._

Why!_ Stop Mommy! _Stop!_ Please!_

_Not human._

_No! Stop!_

"Sam!"

Suddenly the world burst.

"Sam! Wake up!"

My eyes shot open. My head pressed backward as a large, shaky gasp slipped past my lips. I couldn't get enough air.

"Sam! _Shhh_, Sam. It's okay. Breathe," an unidentified voice whispered loudly above me.

I clutched my wrists against my chest, trying to protect them. Maybe if I pressed them far enough into my chest, they'd be safe.

My head swam as I blinked sweat out of my eyes. Breath was coming easier now, though it was still a work in progress.

"Sam," a freezing hand pushed the hair back from my forehead.

"No," I whined in protest to ceiling. Trembling, I pushed my arms tighter into my chest, restricting my own airflow.

The same freezing hand suddenly grabbed my arms.

_Pinning me down. _

_Sharp._

_Sharp pain._

_Blood._

"Stop!" I yelled, ripping my arms from the cold grip and desperately trying to get away from them.

"It's not real!" the voice yelled, suddenly sounding so far away. "Sam, calm down! It's Beck! You're okay!"

I froze in my attempted escape, my legs going limp in the sheets that held me captive.

Beck? Sheets?

My vision started to clear. I was in my room. My room in Beck's house.

Still gasping for breath, I blinked and looked towards where I heard him. It was dark, but the moonlight shining through the window was enough to illuminate his figure.

"Beck?" I tried to speak, but it came out as a pathetic croak. He looked warily at me, as if he was uncertain whether or not I was in the here and now. With only a moment's hesitation, however, he once again sat on the edge of my bed and, as gently as he could, grasped my wrists. I flinched at the contact, then, realizing that my grip on myself was so tight that I could barely feel my fingers, I slowly relaxed them.

"Sam, it was just a dream," he said, his voice calm and warm.

And then I started crying. Or rather, I realized I _was_ crying. The tears were silently pouring down my cheeks and onto my bare chest. "I-" I couldn't speak without choking on my own tongue.

Beck leaned towards me and I automatically threw my arms around neck. He wrapped one of his arms around my shoulders and used the other on to press my head against his neck. He held me as I cried, saying nothing. I knew that, later, I'd be embarrassed that I let Beck see me break down, but right now I just needed someone who I knew wouldn't hurt me. I needed a father.

A long while later – I don't know how long exactly; minutes? Hours? – my tears subsided and I pulled away from Beck a bit to let him know I was good.

I was 15 years old and I was still having these dreams.

No. Not dreams. _Nightmares_.

I angrily rubbed my eyes, frustrated with myself. "Sorry Beck," I mumbled into my chest. I didn't really want to see his expression. I didn't want to see concern or pity.

"It's fine, don't apologize." He sounded like he did any normal day, if not a tad bit quieter.

I stole a quick glimpse at his face. "Thanks." He met my timid glance and the corners of his mouth quirked upwards slightly.

"You're welcome, Sam."

No other words were exchanged that night. I convinced Beck that I was okay by lying back down and closing my eyes. And surprisingly, I _was_ okay. For the moment, at least. I knew that I had something here that I never had when I was a child. A loving family. I had Beck. I had Ulrik. I had Paul.

As long as I keep telling myself that, I know the nightmares can never really get me. That was then, and this is now. When I wake, no matter how many times I had that dream, I always find myself coming to the same conclusion:

"I'm okay."


End file.
